


Strings Attached

by thecattydddy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst, Human AU, Italian Mafia, Multi, Multiship, NSFW, Russian Mafia, Smut, Violence, mafia!talia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The City is over run with rival mafia groups, but the biggest and most dangerous of them all would definitely be the Russians and the Italians. When both these rival leaders fall for the same guy, you can assume !@#% will hit the fan. Will Ivan get the guy? Will it be Lovino? Will there be a third mysterious party that wins? Only these pages can tell you the end result...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Catty: Hey there, guys! You've been real great so far in taking interest in some of my stories and I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all (fu)sososo much!
> 
> 'Kay, so basically, I've been recently turned onto Romerica because of one of my RP partners and I've always had a thing for Mafia!talia (Pirate!talia, too, but that's not relevant to this particular story. Sorry). Because of that, I've decided to write a little fic.
> 
> The main ships will be Romerica and Rusame, but there will also be sideships including but not limited to Fruk, Prucan, Gerita and many others.
> 
> Please be warned that there may be some things in this story that may be triggering and you should proceed with caution. While I will do my best to treat these subjects with care, I find them somewhat essential to the story and ask that you don't read this if you're going to be upset by it.
> 
> That being said, thanks again and enjoy the fic!

 

The night was a chilly one. Lovino stood outside, a cigarette stuck between his teeth; idly pulling it out, twirling it once and replacing it every once in a while. Lights flashed on the signs from the street, words like  _Open_ and  _Free_  and  _Liquor_  especially doing so.

"Fratello," his brother tugged gently on his sleeve, "I don't think he's coming."

"Oh, he's coming," Lovino assured the other man, brushing him off and tossing his cigarette to the ground, stepping on it, "Don't touch my suit, Feliciano. It's expensive."

"Oh! My apologies." Lovino glanced out of the corner of his eye at the Italian Man. They were both very similar in appearance and many would mistake them for twins - Not surprising since they both shared the chocolate brown hair that never seemed to listen to either of them despite threats, bargains, side deals and even actual murder attempts towards their mops. An identical curl that was most likely genetic separated them from the average Italian citizen and as the Mob bosses they were. Lovino was the eldest and, therefore, the head of business, but their power in practice was usually pretty equal. The only thing that  _really_  set the two apart were their personalities. While Feliciano was constantly smiling or fretting over something or just being an adorable little shit, Lovino was the more serious and - as far as he was concerned - more mature of the two.

Just then, a shuffling came from the opposite end of the alley and they both glanced up to see who it was. The man at the head of the procession was a tall danish one, consisting of the most outrageous looking spiked hair and he usually had his signature smirk on his face, but it seemed to be missing now. This was Magnus Densen, the leader of the Northern European mob, The Nordics for shorter. Lovino knew a couple of people who called them the Nor _dicks_  and he somehow couldn't bring himself to disagree.

Following him was the four other members of his direct circle. The two brothers, Erik and Lukas, stood together, wearing identical expressions despite the younger's constant protests of acknowledging their relation. The last two were Berwald and Tino. It was the general consensus that they were lovers, though nobody could quite prove it. They both had a kid that they raised together in a cute little house, for fuck's sake. If they weren't together, there was probably a serious amount of  _No homos_ that had to be tossed around on a regular basis.

Speaking of the kid, Lovino nodded towards his brother and Feliciano took off, understanding a non-spoken code for what it was. Lovino kept his eyes on the Nordics before him, waiting for one of them to speak up.

"Where is he?" Magnus finally spoke, anger radiating off him. It seems he was reluctant to be here, negotiating with a rival mob, but no man could honestly deny Tino a request when he pulled out the waterworks. Even the police were often forced to let him go with a warning when he produced a few crocodile tears. If Lovino could teach Feliciano to do that, they'd save so much money otherwise used to bribe that damn british fruitcake who was head of the police force downtown.

"He's coming," Lovino answered, "Where's our side of the exchange?" Berwald held up an envelope in one hand.

"Everything we were able to discover about the Russians," The envelope was tossed in his direction and Lovino plucked it out of the air. He pulled open the flap and briefly looked through the contents to make sure it was credible.

"Great," he tucked it under his arm. Feliciano returned then, leading a person shorter than even them and with a bag over their head. They were sniffling and Lovino growled to shut them up. Pulling the bag off revealed blonde hair and frightened blue eyes.

"Peter!" Tino exclaimed, his feet moving towards his precious baby, but he was stopped by Berwald.

"Give us the kid," Magnus ordered, "We kept up our half, you keep yours."

"Gladly. He's a brat, anyways," Lovino agreed and Feliciano pushed him forward, causing the boy who barely looked older than eleven or twelve to stumble. Tino was quick to wrap him up in his arms as soon as he was within reach and they both fell to the ground, sobbing out of relief.

"Mama!" Peter murmured, weakly.

"Shhh. It's alright, Peter. Mama's here," Tino petted his head. Magnus sent them a dirty look, so Berwald pulled them to their feet, an hand on either of their shoulders.

"Well, I think this exchange is just about wrapped up-" Lovino stated, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"I think not," answered a cold voice from behind them. All eyes shifted to the sound of the voice and they were met with cold violet eyes. Several others emerged from the other end of the ally, trapping them.

Lovino cursed under his breath. It was the Russians.

"Get out of here, Braginsky," Lovino commanded, "This exchange has nothing to do with you."

"I think it does," Ivan nodded, "See, those bastards gave you something thing that wasn't theirs to give. I suggest you hand it over."

"What? This?" Lovino snickered, holding up the envelope, "Yeah right. Get lost."

"If you're not willing to hand it over then we will take other measures, da?" his lip curled and a female stepped up beside him. She had blonde hair that travelled freely down to her waist. A knife was clutched in one hand, as if it was some kind of prized possession.

"Can I have the happy one, brother?" she wondered, almost sounding sweet despite her words, "I would  _love_  to see how long it takes before he can't cry anymore." Feliciano ducked behind Lovino and even he shivered in terror, but a leader had to keep face and so he did.

"You keep your psychos away from my siblings else I'll have to return the favor," he threatened.

"Feel free, Sister," Ivan said, simply. She grinned and charged forward, knife branded. Lovino expected her to take her straight on and he pulled out his gun to shoot her down, but she kicked it and him out of the way, landing perfectly on the other italian.

"Mmm… How loud do you think you can scream before even the cops can't look away," she trailed a knife across his cheek.

" _Fratello_!" Feliciano pleaded, tears falling down his face. The Nordics began to back away, not wanting to get into a shuffle with the two most powerful mobs in the city. The Russians were powerful simply by reputation and terror, since several stories existed where they'd brutally murdered those in opposition to them with ease and even a smile, despite their small numbers. The Italians, in comparison, were not so much terrifying themselves as their sections were. For years, they'd been integrating other, smaller groups in - Like some kind of underground Roman Empire. Their most recent addition, the Beilschmidt brothers - were the handy work of none other than Feliciano, himself. The retreating Nordics were stopped by three more men, all holding a choice weapon.

"You do not think I let you off so easy," Ivan crackled, "Getting involved with Italians is bad idea. You should know better, Densen." The four members not busy with a civilian formed a wall against the three of them, realizing they'd probably have to fight after all. Lovino, realizing his brother was stuck beneath the girl with the knife, he rose to his feet to shoot her in the back of the head, but Ivan snuck up behind him, holding his back by the neck with his pipe.

"B-bastard! Lemme go!" he hissed, pulling at the pipe to no avail.

"Say your goodbyes, Vargas," Ivan cooed in his ear, "We're going to bring the Roman Empire crashing to ground once again."

Lovino squirmed a bit, "Over my dead body." He shot Ivan in the foot, distracting the Russian enough to loosen his hold so he could slip away. He turned quickly and shot Ivan in the hand, forcing him to drop his pipe as well. As the female turned at the gunshot, fearing for her brother, Feliciano managed to reveal a gun as well, clipping her in the shoulder and kicking her off, switching places and pounding her face in. She slashed her knife, catching him across the cheek, but he ignored it with only a hiss and knocked it away.

"You shouldn't have come here, Bastard," Lovino smirked, his gun pointed directly at Ivan, "I'mma teach you a lesson about manners you'll never forget."

"As exciting as that sounds," Ivan grinned, showing off the folder like a prize, "I got what I came for. Natasha, let's go." She kicked her attacker off with a foot to the stomach. Grabbing her knife as she went, she buried it Lovino's gun-wielding arm, making him cry out and blood soaked his suit.

"We will see one another, again, Vargas," Ivan sang, taking off with her. The other three men followed along as well, leaving the Nordics panting and momentarily defenseless.

Lovino took away his hand, red dripping from his fingers. Anger flared in his green eyes, which Feliciano could have felt from  _miles_  away, "Fratello?"

He hissed and dropped his hand, ignoring the pain in his arm and storming over to the Nordics, ripping Peter away from Toni, who shouted in protest. He pointed his gun at the frightened boy and turned it on the others when they tried to move in to help him.

"Don't you dare. I'll kill you all and him, so help me. Drop your weapons," Lovino threatened, the look in his eyes assuring no funny-business. One by one, they all dropped their weapons.

"Feliciano," Lovino called his brother over. The younger Italian came over, keeping his own weapon trained on them. Lovino turned back to Peter, who was whimpering in fear.

"W-wait!" Magnus yelled, catching the looks the entire group was giving him, "We've got more copies of the info! We'll get it to you!"

"I could care less about the information," Lovino cocked the gun, a single hand holding it steady as he gesticulated with the other, "Consider this compensation for the suit."

A gun shot rang through the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catty: Rusame Smut. If it's not your thing, a Romerica one is coming up next...

Ivan was thrilled. His little ploy had been a victory and, bar for a few minor injuries that barely even counted as anything by their standards, they did so relatively unharmed. He’d decided to celebrate and went out, alone. Natasha had offered to accompany him, but he insisted that was quite alright. Mostly, he was looking for a fling and having his sister murder them mid-way through would not be ideal. He loved Natasha, he truly did, but even he had trouble with her, sometimes.

The bar was a nice one on his side of town. The place was new and relatively lively and he glanced woefully at the young adults on the dance floor. Making his way to the counter, he took a seat on one of the stools.

“Well, someone’s happy,” the bartender came over, smiling brightly. Ivan looked him over. He was young - Not quite as young as Raivas, perhaps, but certainly younger than himself - and had blonde hair that was probably styled to look messy. He had baby blue eyes that seemed to be alight with happiness and had an undertone of flirtation. The lights reflected off his glasses as he went about preparing drinks. The uniform he wore just hinted at the well defined form of an athlete. His nametag read _Alfred_ in curly, golden print. 

“Successful day at work,” Ivan nodded.

“And you’re celebrating alone? Your coworkers are either jerks or insane,” Alfred laughed, sliding a drink over to him, “Well, either way, congrats. That’s for you - On the house.”

“How kind. Thank you,” Ivan accepted the drink.

“Sure thing, buddy! So, you gonna share what happened?” Alfred inquired, eyebrow quirked. Ivan’s face fell a bit and he shook his head.

“Nothing of interest to you,” Ivan assured, darkly. The severity of the tone seemed to go right over the bartender’s head.

“Haha. Alright, there’s no need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Alfred assured, making a drink for a pretty blonde that was watching him with hooded eyes. He offered her a wink and exchanged a brief conversation with her before her friends came by and dragged her off to dance. Returning his attention to Ivan, he refilled his glass.

“So if you’re celebrating, you got plans for tonight?” Alfred inquired, “Fine looking gentleman like you… Probably got your choice of nearly anyone.”

“Depends on who’s available,” Ivan replied. Now that he’s thought about it, this bartender would be more than ideal, “Does your shift last much longer.”

Alfred laughed, confusing the Russian a little, “Suppose I should have seen myself walk into that one. As much as I’d love to, I’ve got another job I’ve got to get to. My shift gets off in about ten minutes and then I’ve only a few minutes to myself before I’ve got to get going.”

Ivan, a man who was not used to taking no for an answer, frowned slightly. He wasn’t willing to give up so easily, “That would be more than enough time.”

“Really?” Alfred leaned forward a bit, curiously, “And where would we be, then? We certainly can’t get a room in that time and I think I’m just a little higher end than to settle with an alley way.”

“I’ve got a limo,” Ivan answered, “It’ll be more than comfortable.”

“Well,” Alfred smirked, “I suppose we could try…” Ivan grinned, triumphantly, at the wink he received . Alfred moved to go care for some other patrons, but he would glance over occasionally. 

The end of his shift rolled around, to which he said goodbye to his coworker and hurried to change out of the uniform, rushing out so he’d have plenty of time. A driver was heading into the bar just as he was leaving. A few feet away, leaning against a shiny black limo, was Ivan. He bounced over and took the offered hand that helped him in, pulling the larger man in and the door was shut behind him.

“Hey, uh… I don’t think I got your name,” Alfred mentioned. 

“Ivan,” he answered, “And you are _Alfred_ , correct?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. There was something about how Ivan said it that sent shivers through him. There wasn’t a moment wasted with such things, though, because they both knew they were pressed for time. Alfred was the first to move, taking Ivan by the lapels and kissing him. The Russian was quick to follow, though, deepening the kiss and running his hand up Alfred’s side and under his shirt. Alfred gasped slightly when he brushed against his nipples, allowing Ivan to slip his tongue inside. The shirt was pushed up and out of the way and they broke apart their kiss to push it off, Alfred panting slightly. 

Ivan was quick to begin showing his nubs attention, firmly rubbing and pinching one while licking the other. Alfred moaned, a sound that sent his blood rushing south. with his free hand, he ran his hands across the blonde’s abs. The uniform certainly hadn’t done him enough justice. Alfred, becoming a bit impatient with all the foreplay, tugged Ivan’s jacket back. In the few seconds he had to use his own hands to remove the article, Alfred managed to maneuver himself into Ivan’s lap. He straddled him as he began unbuttoning his shirt, licking his lips as each section of skin panned out before him. Ivan could easily feel Alfred’s member pressing against him in this new position and he growled at the contact. Alfred, having removed the last button and pushed that over Ivan’s shoulder as well, sensed the other’s predicament and rutted forward, smirking slightly. It showed quite clearly _exactly_ what that did.

Ivan hissed and flipped them so that Alfred had his back on the seat, the Russian hovering over him and quickly working to remove his pants. He pulled them and Alfred’s boxers off in one go, leaving the blonde beautifully exposed beneath him. He took Alfred into his hand as he used his free one to rummage through a compartment.

“Ah…! I…Ivan…” Alfred was coming apart with Ivan’s practiced strokes, his voice cracking slightly.

“Ssh,” he shushed the younger man, finally wrapping his hands around the necessary items. Releasing Alfred for a moment, which caused him to whine at the loss, Ivan shucked off his own pants and tore open one of the condoms, rolling it onto his member. He assisted Alfred with the other and then popped the cap on the lube.

Alfred felt the slick finger, somewhat cold but also very much wanted, press against his entrance. He was certainly not new to this, but Ivan was still careful, pressing in one finger slowly, searching for the spot that he knew would sent Alfred into even more of a panting mess than he already was.

“Oh _god_ ,” Alfred could feel the effects of one little touch through his entire body and he moaned, loudly, “ _Fuck me_ , holy shit.”

“I’m trying to,” Ivan replied, smugly. He slid a second finger in, scissoring them and occasionally eliciting a string of curses and pleas from Alfred. Ivan slid in a third finger, stretching it farther. 

Finally, he felt satisfied and removed his digits, making Alfred cry out in loss, but he quickly replaced it with his own member, fully hard and lubed up. It slid in with a grunt and a gasp.

“Move… Please move,” Alfred begged, digging his heels into Ivan’s back, brilliant blue eyes were filled with lust. Ivan snapped his hips forward and Alfred couldn’t manage to choke back his scream, stars dancing behind his vision. Ivan began to set up a rhythm, Alfred becoming more hoarse with every inward thrust.

“I…I…I’m…So fucking close,” Alfred managed, “Oh god, _please_ let me…”

Ivan hummed in response, wrapping his firm hand around Alfred’s member and stroking it to completion, Alfred cumming hard and his face twisting in orgasmic pleasure. He tightened around the Russian and, which a few more thrusts, Ivan did as well. They stayed like that for a moment, catching their breath. Ivan finally pulled out, removing both condoms and tying them off to trap the fluid inside. He dropped them in a waste disposal and then settled down on the seat, Alfred halfway on top of him. 

“Don’t you have to get going?” Ivan asked, running his hand through Alfred’s mused hair.

“I can be a few minutes late,” Alfred mumbled back, tired, “God, you were _fantastic_.” Ivan smirked in pride.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a totally legit way that not only makes Alfred and Matthew biologically related to both Francis and Arthur while still not in anyway including M-Preg and I'll be expanding on that a bit more in later chapters, but for now, you'll have to just trust me.
> 
> Also, Mama is, obviously referring to Arthur, but that's just what Alfred calls him with Francis. Matthew, on the other hand, thinks of Francis of more of a mother figure. I'll expand on this a little, too, but I just don't want anyone to get confused.

Lovino glanced over briefly at the counter when the bartender called in greeting to someone. He’d been sitting at a corner table out of plain sight for a while now, emitting a dark aura. The boy - _Matthew_ , as his name tag said - had been nice enough, bringing him drinks while his French coworker - a man named Francis and the owner of the bar - manned the counter. Part of the Italian thought it was solely because he wanted to avoid his coworker’s hovering and weird affection, but Lovino didn’t exactly care enough to ask. 

“Mattie!” the new arrival waved, speaking louder than anyone else in the room, including the other customers, “How’re things? Papa working you to the bone, still?” 

“ _Perdon?_ ,” the Frenchman demanded, insulted, “As if I would do such a thing to my darling _Matthieu_.”

“Nah, mostly he’s just been scaring away customers by fawning over me,” Matthew replied, crossing his arms in amusement.

“Should have guessed it,” the boy chuckled, straightening out his vest and pinning his tag to it. The name printed across it said _Alfred_ and he’d caught Lovino’s attention almost immediately. 

“Oh _mon bebes_! How could you team up against Papa like this?” Francis demanded, theatrics at full blast with teary eyes and everything. The boys laughed. Leaving the man to wallow for a moment, Matthew unpinned his own tag and filled Alfred up on all the costumers. Their eyes locked for just a moment when Matthew’s explanations carried to his end of the room and Lovino had to turn away from the smile sent in his direction, his face suddenly feeling warm. It wasn’t really his fault, to be fair. It’s just a side effect of coming in contact with the sun. 

“Later, Mattie!” Alfred waved to his brother as the quieter boy left. Francis, seemingly recovered from his trauma from earlier, settled beside Alfred behind the counter, talking to him in a voice too low for Lovino to hear from where he was sitting. He told himself he was looking for entertainment that he suddenly moved to the counter. He was bored. It wasn’t curiosity and it _certainly_ wasn’t envy. Of course not. That’s ridiculous. 

“Onhonhon, what is this?” Francis caught sight of him, sliding over to focus his attention on the Italian, “It was quite lonely over in that corner, _Monsieur_ , _oui_? I couldn’t imagine you wanting to stay away from _moi_ very long.” He winked and leaned forward on the bar, closer to the Italian. Lovino growled, lowly, but it went unnoticed as Alfred took Francis by the back of the shirt and pulled him away with an eye roll.

“It’s like you forget you’re a married man,” the boy stated, taking his spot before Francis could bother their customer any further, “At least go flirt with the ladies who _want_ your attention and leave this poor guy alone?”

“It is not as though your mama would be happy either way,” Francis chuckled, but complied, taking orders from some of the lovely ladies down the way. 

“Sorry about him,” Alfred gave Lovino a smile, also leaning on the counter towards him, but not nearly as much. He still seemed like he was flirting, but it was subtle, a tad more reserved. Like he was testing the waters, first, “Hate to say I’m related to the guy, really, but what can I do. Family is family. You want a refill?” The Italian kept a neutral expression but slid his glass across the counter, which Alfred caught with ease. 

“You seem a little miserable, _Ami_ ,” Alfred held the full glass back out to him, “You sure you don’t want something a little stronger?” 

“Tch. I’ve got a bastard brother at home who’d skin me if I show up drunk,” Lovino grumbled, taking the glass back, and drinking half of it in one go, “Though, he hardly does much talking at all, these days - Except in _German_.”

“Oh _that_ sounds like jealousy,” Alfred noted, resting his elbows on the counter, eager to hear the gossip, “Tell me all about your troubles. A little alcohol and a shoulder to cry on can do wonders.”

“I’m not jealous!” Lovino snapped, his anger leaking a little into visibility. It wasn’t his fault his _stupid_ brother hooked up with that damn _German_. Sure, there was still the other one, but he wasn’t exactly a Vargas’ type of romantic. To be fair, neither was Ludwig, but at least he wasn’t _obnoxious_. 

Either the tone went completely over Alfred’s head or he ignored it, “Aw, it’s alright. We’ve all been in that spot in our lives. The boy who just walked outta here? He’s my brother and when we were little, he used to have all the ladies. There was this one girl - Julchen was her name - Prettiest girl I’d met, at the time, and totally awesome. Even she was all over him, in her own way. Of course, I’ve become better with the ladies more recently since they sort of realized they want a partner that can talk, but the sentiment is still there.” 

“This is hardly the same situation,” Lovino stated, although he did feel a little. He hardly felt like Alfred could even _begin_ to connect to him and his life, but for that split second, he felt like he could do so with just an average guy - Admittedly, a very _attractive_ average guy, but none the less. It was nice - Even if he’d never admit it. 

“Are you sure you don’t want something a _little_ stronger?” 

“I said no, you stupid bastard!”

He spent the next few hours at the bar, far later than he intended, but talking to Alfred was… Intriguing. He could see Francis glancing at them warily, especially whenever Lovino raised his voice, but that was only because _he_ knew. Of course he did. He was a highly successful business man not only in this region of town, but in _every_ region in town. Even if he didn’t own the main bar for just about every mafia group - Including a nice new location in Russian territory - he was still married to the head of the police force. That man was untouchable, so long as Lovino wanted the bribes to work. Francis wasn’t stupid, though. He knew _exactly_ who his son was talking to and it irritated the Italian to no end to be looked at with such hostility but treated with kindness. It was fake. He hated fake people - It was part of the reason he couldn’t stand himself, either. 

The other patrons had all cleared out and Francis was wiping down the counter, but Alfred was still there, talking to him like he had nothing better to do in the world. The night had went on and the brunette had become more aware of more of the boy in front of him. He wouldn’t have admitted, but he might have even smiled, just the tiniest bit. Considering he’d come in a few hours ago and wanted to drink himself into a stupor after killing a kid, well… It was surprising, to say the least. 

“Alfred,” Francis’ voice cut into their conversation, “You really aught to get going. I’m sure Mama will be worried if you don’t get home on time, tonight.”

“He’s always worried,” Alfred pointed out, chuckling, “Besides, you know I’m not going home, Pops. I’ve gotta go pick up milk at the gas station - I promised that him I would.”

“I’m sure he would understand why you didn’t. It’s very late,” Francis replied, “I could give you a ride home.”

“I can walk,” Alfred declined.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Francis pressured, glancing quickly at the Italian, who glared right back.

“I’ve walked on these streets my whole life, Papa. I’ll be fine,” the blonde boy insisted, “I’mma leave in a second, ‘Kay? Lemme just grab my stuff.” Alfred disappeared into the back room and Lovino took the time to finish his drink, sliding the glass across the counter to where Francis was.

“I do hope I needn’t remind you my husband is the head of police,” Francis stuck his nose in the air a little.

“Don’t worry, Dollface. I ain’t gonna hurt your baby boy,” Lovino smirked, pulling a cigarette pack out of his pocket and sticking one between his teeth. He turned on his heel and left the building, smoking just outside.

“Dollface? Who exactly do you think you’re talking to like-“ 

“Back!” Alfred cheered, changed and with a bag slung over his shoulder. He stepped up to Francis and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “I’ll be home, soon, ‘Kay? Tell Mama not to worry.” With that, he jumped over the counter and took the few steps out the front. Francis couldn’t hear them, anymore, but he could see Alfred pluck the cigarette from Lovino’s mouth and toss it over his shoulder. 

He just prayed that his boy’s charming good looks and radiant personality would be enough to make up for his naivety. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for the Romerica smut, it's in the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Alfred a mega dork? Is he a Casa Nova? Is he a charming combination of both? The world will never know.
> 
> Eh... not sure if how I feel about this one. I'm pretty sure Lovino's art metaphor got away from him a little bit, but whatever. Enjoy, I guess.

“Woah,” Alfred blinked up at the hotel a few times, “You do know we could have gotten something a lot cheaper, right?”

“Please. I wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with any place with less that four stars,” Lovino scoffed, moving towards the entrance, “Even that’s pushing it. Who the hell do you take me for?” 

“Well, considering the last time I had sex with someone it was in the back of a vehicle, I really wasn’t expecting anything this big,” Alfred admitted, holding the door open for him. He wandered in, nose in the air and ignored the tight feeling in his chest at the comment. He _wasn’t_ jealous. Of course not. This was a one night stand and then he’d probably never see this guy, again. That was perfectly fine and he could care less.

Alfred waited sort of awkwardly while Lovino picked up the keys. He’d had one of his men pay for them already and, given his reputation, the wait was nonexistent. He pushed the blonde towards the elevators before anyone could question his outfit. The room was very near the elevator and the younger man pushed in as soon as the door was unlocked, revealing in everything like a child. Lovino let him scamper about for a moment as he set about taking off his shoes and setting his things aside where they were out of sight before walking over to the only bed in the room and grabbing Alfred and tossing him onto it. He landed with a soft _oof_ and looked a little confused before he saw Lovino hovering above him. His expression changed in mere seconds from childish wonder to something a lot more sexual.

“You’re really easily impressed, aren’t you?” Lovino noted, his hands sliding over Alfred’s body. He could already tell there was definitely the toned muscles of an athlete beneath his clothes. The outfit he wore really didn’t do him justice and Lovino felt almost desperate to get it off - _Almost_.

“That’s mean,” Alfred informed. 

Lovino chuckled to himself, pressing kisses to Alfred’s neck, “I’m not a very nice person.”

“I don’t think that,” Alfred mumbled. Lovino placed his mouth over the blonde’s, just to shut him up. This kid was obviously incredibly stupid and naive, but he sort of like that. He had that certain sparkle in his eye that most people lost by the time they were sixteen in that area. He was different. _Special_. The Italian wanted to claim him so badly. He was a collector of rare and beautiful things by nature and Alfred was a once in a lifetime type of person. 

He gently pushed Alfred’s shirt up his stomach as they kissed, Alfred making a sort of soft hum into it which reverberated into Lovino. He probably could have gone much faster and Alfred wouldn’t have minded one bit, but this was _art_ he was dealing with and rushing would be the greatest injustice he could ever do himself - Especially considering he’d probably never see Alfred, again. 

He pulled away from the kiss, making Alfred mew in protest. His mouth traveled to the blonde’s nub, sucking gently on one and rubbing the other. It was almost painfully slow, but Lovino could quite obviously see how much he liked it, if the raising bulge in his pants were anything to go by. He pushed Alfred’s shirt the rest of the way off his body and it landed on the floor. He’d somehow managed to kick his shoes off the end of the bed when the Italian wasn’t paying attention. Lips still locked with Alfred’s nipple, his one hand went to push down his pants, drawing a gasp out of him when Lovino accidentally brushed against his member. 

“You, too,” Alfred murmured, his fingers closing around the fabric of Lovino’s shirt. The Brunette _hmmed_ in acknowledgement, letting Alfred pull the shirt over his head and it joined the other articles on the floor. Lovino connected their lips, again, while Alfred worked his belt loose and pushed his pants away. 

“You have lube and stuff, right?” Alfred inquired, when they pulled away a moment to breathe. Lovino thought a moment, looking around the room before crawling away a moment to check the stand beside the bed.

“I told them to put it… Here,” he pulled a small bottle and a couple square packages out of the drawer and returned to his previous position. Alfred’s fingers brushed across his chest and then settled on his hips. Artwork. Artwork with feelings. Artwork that, even in its flaws, was _perfect_ and touching and Lovino wanted it so badly. He wanted to keep it. Maybe show it to others - Display it, proudly - but never let anyone touch it. Nobody else but him.

The Italian pulled Alfred’s boxers off and removed the final layer separating his member from the air. He was hard, already, and a few simple strokes had Alfred panting and turning a red hue at brought out his eyes a little more. slicking up his fingers with the lubricant, he began to press them into Alfred’s entrance, stretching him open.

“L-lovino…” he hissed, trying to accustom himself to the intrusion.

“Shh…” Lovino pressed kisses to his jawline, working a second digit in, “I’ve got you, Babe.” He finished with the preparations and tore open the condoms. One he rolled over Alfred. He finally removed his own boxers and slid the other onto himself. Positioning himself over Alfred’s entrance, he rested his hands on the blonde’s hips, “Ready?” Alfred merely nodded and Lovino thrust forward.

“Oh god _yes_ ,” Alfred moaned, his legs pulling the other closer. Lovino set up a steady rhythm, meeting each of the younger man’s outbursts with kisses or nips along his neck and chest. Alfred’s fingers found their way into Lovino’s hair, pulling just the tiniest bit with every inward movement. He stroked the blond alongside them.

“I-I’m…” Alfred choked out, eyes closed tightly, “I’m gonna…” Lovino didn’t need to be told twice and sped up his strokes, finally pulling Alfred over the edge as he came with a shout. Lovino was quick to follow, collapsing against the other. He pulled out, slowly, removed the condoms and tied them off before tossing them into a nearby trash bin. Alfred looked incredibly tired and was laying on his side, facing towards Lovino as he crawled onto the bed, settling beside the warm body. The Italian brushed aside a hair strand to stare into those baby blue eyes, hooded and content.

“ _Dipinte da mani di Dio_ ,” he whispered. There was no artist better, after all.

“Hmm?” Alfred wondered.

“It’s Italian.”

“What’s it mean?” Alfred questioned. Lovino just shook his head. This was one piece of work that wasn’t for sale, so bidding on it would be pointless. He just had to treasure the moments he had to admire it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don't know Italian or Russian, so if I ever put something that isn't correct, please feel free to tell me and I'll happily fix it and then show you in gratitude for several years.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is mostly FACE centric, but it's super important to the plot of the story. Also this family is hella cute and I love them so much so yaaay.

Alfred unlocked the door, walking through and closing it behind him as silently as he could since it was so late at night. He flipped the light switch on and kicked his shoes off, hanging his coat on the hook. Before he could even take one step out of the tiny front room, he was practically tackled to the ground.

“Alfred!” The shorter of the two blondes was practically in hysterics and the other was only slightly better off. He managed to keep them from smothering him to death with a little difficulty.

“It’s really late. Don’t you guys have work tomorrow?” Alfred questioned, slipping out of their grasps and darting for the kitchen. He rummaged through the fridge and pulled out a plate covered with _saran wrap_. Francis removed the plate and went to heat it up for him while Arthur ushered him into his seat, taking the opportunity to touch his face and hair and back to just make sure he was definitely there. Alfred waved him away with an annoyed look, only letting him go back to doing it when he was throughly distracted with the food Francis placed in front of him. The fish fry was by no means the best he’d ever had, but it was one of the few things Arthur knew how to make without burning to a crisp and so he didn’t complain. 

“Alfred,” Francis took a seat opposite him, hands folded. The younger male glanced up briefly, but continued shoveling food in his mouth. It was a well known fact that if they pressured him into talking he would start doing so with his mouth full and they raised him better than that, so Francis kept talking without any verbal response, “We were very worried about you, tonight. I don’t like the idea of you wandering off with strangers after work. It’s not safe.” Alfred returned the comment with a _you have to be kidding me_ look.

“Don’t look at your father in that tone, young man!” Arthur scolded, smacking him on the back of the head, “What if that had been some kind of psycho murderer? You could have been dropped in an alley, long dead, and we would have been heartbroken! What do you think Mattie would have felt having to stare at your dead body at a funeral?”

“You can’t be serious! I don’t have to explain what I do! I’m twenty years old, Dad, and more than capable of taking care of myself!  I wasn’t going with some psycho murderer!” Alfred returned, swallowing quickly and a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. 

“Don’t go waving your food around like that! You’re still such a child! Didn’t you learn anything we told you about stranger danger?” Arthur hissed.

“I didn’t get into any white van, did I? I can myself! I could have easily overpowered that guy! You should have seen the Russian that I ran into earlier today! At least some concern might have been _warranted,_ then, but this Italian guy was tiny! Barely taller than you!”

“You are such a selfish little brat!”

“It’s not my fault that nobody wants to talk to you! Maybe if you didn’t have a stick up your ass all the time, you could have some friends, too!”

“Alfred Fitzgerald Jones!“

“Enough!” Francis interrupted, drawing both of their attention, “Bickering over the past is not going to fix this. Nor is throwing mud. Alfred, apologize to your father.”

The young blond’s eyes were suddenly painted in guilt and he cast his glance downward, “‘M sorry, Dad. You have plenty of friends. I got a little out of hand.” Arthur glared at Francis, but accepted the apology and petted Alfred’s hair to calm them both down. 

“ _Bon garçon,_ ” Francis praised, smiling just the tiniest bit when Alfred peeked up at him, “Now, Alfred, you know we love you, right? And only want what’s best for you?” He nodded, silently.

“Yes, Papa.”

“And you know we wouldn’t confront you if we weren’t concerned about your wellbeing?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“So I don’t want you going places with strangers, late at night, anymore. It’s not safe.”

“But-“

“It’s not like you can’t still make friends, Alfred,” Arthur assured, placing a kiss to his forehead, “You should just get yourself a cute girlfriend, already. It would make everything a lot easier for you.”

“Or cute boyfriend,” Francis winked.

“Uhg. Whatever,” Alfred rolled his eyes, standing up from his chair, “I’m going to bed.” They watched him walk out. A moment later, he returned to get the half-eaten plate of food and took it with him. Both of the boy’s parents chuckled, quietly. It faded to silence as they both contemplated the previous conversation.

“You know, we’re going to have to tell the boys about this town, eventually. We can’t keep them sheltered forever,” Francis sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Arthur took the seat Alfred had just vacated.

“But then what was the point of us working so hard to get this powerful?” Arthur grumbled, “Opening several successful bars across town was no easy feat and don’t even get me started on what I had to do to climb the ranks down at the station.”

“ _Oui_. I certainly wouldn’t want all that to go to waste.”

“I hate to say it, but I wish they’d just… Go away,” Arthur muttered, “Go live in some other city or maybe in the middle of nowhere and meet some sweet small-town town person and make a little family and never ever come back here…”

“Of course you do, _mon cher_ ,” Francis smiled, sweetly, “And we would have taken them out of here long ago if it wasn’t…”

“If it wasn’t for your sister,” Arthur finished, averting his eyes. Francis went over to him and kissed the top of his head.

“Do not think about that, right now, Arthur. Alfred was right - It is indeed very late. Why don’t we go to bed?”

“Alright…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you worry. Our darling Russian and Italian babies will be back in the coming chapters.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a filler bit of Alfred's quest for a girlfriend coming to light. Enjoy.

What do you mean you forgot how to talk to girls?” Matthew demanded, not really able to deal with his brother’s crap at the moment. He had left the counter unattended for a second to drag the boy back out to the front and if Francis knew he’d be skinned alive.

“I mean what I said!” Alfred replied, his voice sounding a little to high, “I can’t do this, Mattie!”

“Alfred, you do this every day of your life,” Matthew rolled his eyes.

“But not when I’m trying to pick someone up… Okay, well maybe, but never when I’m looking for a _girlfriend_ ,” Alfred whined, dragging his feet. Matthew pushed him into a stool behind the counter and quickly apologized to the customer waiting with her empty glass. As soon as she was cared for, Matthew returned his attention to Alfred.

“Alfred, you shouldn’t be trying to pick up costumers, anyways,” Matthew stated, “It’s not proper and makes it look like we’re buying their services with sex.”

“Pfft. Whatever. You’re just jealous that they like me better,” Alfred snorted. 

“I don’t even understand why you feel like you have to get a girlfriend, anyways,” Matthew demanded.

“Because Mom said-“

“I’m pretty sure they meant it as a _suggestion_ ,” Matthew interjected, irritated, “Because you seem to get yourself in trouble when you’re not tied down and it would be a lot easier to watch out for you with someone else in the picture. The three of us are at our wits end.”

“I didn’t ask you to do it,” Alfred grumbled, crossing his arms.

“No. You wouldn’t have thought that far in advance.”

“Hey!”

“Look,” Matthew shoved a drink in his hand and gestured to a table across the room, “See that girl right there? The one with the flower in her hair?”

“Oh, that chick with the Princess Laia hair and too big shirt?”

“Yeah. Her. Take this drink over and use your hero charm, Alfred. Trust me, if anyone can do it, it’s you. Just, instead of promising her sex, try to get a _cell number_ , okay? You’ll have plenty of people trying to be your girlfriend in no time.”

“Right! Thanks, Mattie! I owe you one.”

 “Yeah…”

* * *

“I can’t believe this,” Alfred stared at the slips of paper sprawled across the table. He’d been careful to wash off the numbers each girl - and a few men - had written on his hand after copying them over to these pieces of paper. Matthew was equally impressed.

“Alfred, how the hell are you not already in a relationship?” Matthew questioned.

“Well, I tried to get Julchen, once upon a time, but alas she loved another. I could never bring myself to do the same,” the blue-eyed brother joked.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole as a kid,” Matthew returned, smugly.

“I was not! I was a hero!”

“You pushed Kyle in the pool.”

“He wanted to swim! That was how Uncle Oliver’s creepy boyfriend taught us how.”

“You put a frog in Regina’s lunchbox.”

“I thought it was cool! I wanted to surprise her with a gift!”

“You broke Jett’s nose.”

“He’s family - That doesn’t count.”

“ _Mon bebes_!” Francis burst into the door, interrupting their conversation, “How has Papa’s darlings been holding up?”

“Papa!” Alfred cheered, “Hi! It’s been going well. Nothing we couldn’t handle!”

“We’re talking about how horrible of a kid Alfred was, at the moment,” Matthew explained.

“Oh, _oui_ , he was…” Francis began, but stopped himself when he caught Alfred’s hurt look, “…The most darling little boy. Full of life. Everyone loved him.”

“Ha! See?” Alfred turned to Matthew, victoriously, “I was a _great_ kid!” Matthew shot Francis a disapproving look, but the Frenchman was already moving on.

“ _Ohonhon_ , what is this?” Francis questioned, noticing the slips of paper on the counter.

“Alfred’s trying to find a girlfriend,” Matthew explained, “These are the numbers of all the people who seemed willing to go out with him.”

“ _Mon dieu_! Did you hit on every person who walked through the door?” Francis exclaimed.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do, anyways?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casually making my babies manipulative, possessive murderers. I guess it's a mafia thing? Let's go with that.
> 
> Also, Claire wasn't supposed to represent anyone. I was considering to name her Alice and maybe make a casual USUK thing, but I wouldn't have let anything happen to her, then. Instead I named her after one of my best friends - Who I love very dearly and looks nothing like this Claire trust me.
> 
> Fortunately, my buddy doesn't like Hetalia, so my secret is safe.

She was very pretty.

Lovino couldn’t deny that, even if it was that sort of generic pretty that only just barely appealed to the eye and lacked a great deal below the surface. Alfred smiled at her with that beautiful, genuine smile and her’s was real enough to fool the blonde boy, but _he_ could see right through it. She sat behind the counter, practically draped over his arm. Not only was it repulsive to watch the way he attended to her every whim, but she was messing with business. While he’d been perfectly content with flirting with every person who approached the counter before, he couldn’t even get a word in before she was there, glaring an icy glare that promised death if one so much as looked at him. It was ridiculous. Alfred didn’t even _notice_. If the French bastard hadn’t been there as well, they probably wouldn’t have sold any drinks the whole night.

“Hey!” Alfred beamed at him as he approached the counter, sliding into the same stool as he had a few weeks ago, “I was wondering how long you were gonna sit in the corner, Lovino. It’s pretty out of the way and not nearly as fun!”

“Yes, well… I’m not a very sociable person,” Lovino admitted, “Speaking of which… Who’s your friend? You never mentioned anything about her, I don’t think.” 

“Oh! This is my new girlfriend,” Alfred explained, taking her hand in his. She batted her eyelashes at him, “Her name’s Claire.”

“Claire, huh?” Lovino inquired, “Such a… Pretty name. I think it fits you very well.” She glanced over at him in interest and the Italian knew that he had her on the end of his line.

“What’s yours, Hon?” she asked, disentangling herself from the masterpiece she was leaving her dirty fingerprints all over. 

“Mine is not of any importance,” Lovino insisted. In his entire career, he had only met one person who didn’t recognize him and he was standing a few get away, chatting up a costumer. _Finally_ , without her nagging the poor boy could do his job. It wouldn’t due to scare her off because of formalities, “I once thought name was everything, but that changed when I saw your face. I realized all my fame and fortune could not compare to your beauty.”

“You have money?” she seemed to pick up on the tiny bit of information like a hungry shark picks up on the scent of blood. Every exchange infuriated him further, but he had to go about this carefully; with _style_. Anything less would just be insulting to his reputation.

“Tell me,” Lovino dodged the question, “How did you meet Alfred?”

“Oh, my mom is an officer downtown,” she explained, “She tells me all about the Chief’s family and his sweet son. Unfortunately, the chief himself is married to a hairy lady, but his son was free game. Imagine my luck when he started talking interest in me. Of course, him and I aren’t _terribly_ serious. I’d be willing to consider other, more…” she looked him up and down, “Wealthy men.”

“Then perhaps I have the perfect man for you,” he replied, “A incredibly well-off friend of mine has been quite interested in finding a partner for a while, now, and asked me to assist him. I couldn’t imagine anyone more charming than yourself to fit the bill.” Of course, he didn’t really have any friends like that, but it would get not only her away from Alfred, but also that german bastard away from his brother. It was a perfect set up.

“Really? Interesting,” she considered, “What’s he like?” Lovino smirked.

* * *

“ _Fratello_ is making you do… What?” Feliciano questioned, giving the other man a look.

“He’s ordered me to pretend to be this girl’s wealthy boyfriend,” Ludwig explained, arms crossed, “I have to admit, it’s an entirely strange experience. I have no interest in her and I’m fairly certain she’s only interested in filling her bank account.”

“Ve? Why would he make you do something like that?” Feliciano asked. He wasn’t jealous, of course - since it _was_ just orders - but he couldn’t help but think it was a very unusual thing for Lovino to request.

“He wouldn’t say. Told me to _‘Mind my own damn business, potato bastard_.’ Whatever it is, though, he seemed especially disgusted when describing the task to me. Even went to take a bath afterwards.” Felicano nodded, contemplating. That wasn’t unusual behavior in itself, but it did indicate something was off. Paired with Ludwig’s task, he’d assume that his brother had a particular grudge against this girl. Maybe she had said something bad about his designers? Or embarrassed him in public? Or…

“You don’t think _Fratello_ is jealous of her, do you?” Feliciano inquired.

“Jealous? Of what?” Ludwig wondered.

“Maybe her… Uh… Boyfriend?” Feliciano offered, “Maybe he’s fallen in love with him and didn’t think she was worthy, but didn’t want to upset him by killing someone he was romantically involved with.”

Ludwig, contrary to his usual character, actually _laughed_ at that, but quickly composed himself. Feliciano was caught off guard by the action and was stuck somewhere between happy to see him happy and insulted in his brother’s sake, “Feliciano, no offense to you or your brother, but that does not seem like something he would do. I’m fairly certain he’s aromatic at this point. He can flirt and have sex, but he’s never taken particular interest in that sort of thing.”

“He has so,” Feliciano pouted, “He’s always thought it’d be nice to have a _bella_ to settle down with. It’s just not _practical_. Besides, he’s never found the right one before… Until now, at least.”

“Perhaps, but it’s incredibly unlikely.”

* * *

Ivan strolled into the bar, expecting to meet the charming boy from the last time he’d been there. It had been incredibly enjoyable and he couldn’t help wanting a repeat performance. He settled on the stool near the counter and smirked in approval at the familiar head of blonde hair.

“Hello, Alfred,” he purred, to which the other turned around. Ivan was taken aback only when he noticed the violet eyes staring back at him certainly weren’t the baby blues he’d associated with the man. They were pretty, certainly, but they weren’t what he’d come to this specific bar for. It’d somehow picked up popularity, since he’d last been, and Ivan certainly hadn’t come for the _atmosphere_. 

“Ah. You must be one of his regulars,” the boy chuckled, quietly, drying off a glass and setting it on the counter to fill with his drink, “Alfred isn’t here, tonight. My apologies. What can I get you?”

“Vodka,” the Russian answered, simply, “Straight. Don’t bother watering it down with anything.”

“Right away,” the new bartender - _Matthew,_ so said his tag - poured the drink and slid it over to him. Ivan cradled the glass and gave the boy a look. They looked very alike, so it was understandable that he’d made the mistake. Even still, there were definitely differences that were obvious and turned him away. Perhaps if he hadn’t looking for this boy’s doppleganger, he would have considered it, but not when he wanted Alfred.

“If it isn’t too much to pry, why did he take off? This is his shift, isn’t it?” Ivan said, smiling sweetly and making the blonde laugh nervously and take a few steps away. He didn’t recognize him, either, else Matthew would have probably been a lot more terrified than he was, but the boy wasn’t oblivious, either. He knew a scary face when he saw it.

“He’s a little bit down,” Matthew explained, barely above a whisper, “His girlfriend just left him for some beefy german guy with money. Alfred was pretty beat up about it, so he took off.” 

“I was not aware he had girlfriend,” Ivan took a swig of his drink, giving Matthew a skeptical look.

“It wasn’t going on very long,” Matthew explained, “I actually helped him find her a few weeks ago. It’s what brothers do, after all… If you’ll excuse me.” Matthew left him to attend to some other patrons. Ivan frowned. He certainly didn’t think this _girlfriend_ from him what he wanted was aware that Alfred was already spoken for. If not officially or in any way known by Alfred himself, Ivan had staked a claim on that cute blue-eyed boy. She would have to be taught a lesson about coming between him and what he wanted. 

Ivan abandoned his glass and left without a word to anyone. Matthew didn’t even see him leave. He pulled a cellphone from his pocket and called up one of his contacts.

“M-Mister Braginsky?” the terrified voice of one of his subordinates carried over the phone.

“Ah. Toris. I have someone to find, tonight. I suspect you will have information ready when I arrive in addition to my pipe, _da_?” Ivan did put his underlings under a lot of pressure, but Toris wasn’t his favorite because he was good looking. His capability had kept him and several other members of their group alive for quite some time. Ivan had full faith that this task would be cake for him.

“U-um… Yes, Sir. Just tell me who I am looking for and it’ll be ready for you upon arrival. Shall I tell your sister?”

“ _Nyet_. I will be taking care of this one alone.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends with benefits. Always a cliche sign of some kind of romantic triangle in the near future.

“What do you want with me?” the girl pleaded, eyes filled with tears. Blood and bruised painted her skin and Ivan held his pipe behind his back, smiling sweetly. The room was cold and dark and the binding on her wrists and ankles was cutting into the skin, causing scarlet to drip onto the painful ropes. Every movement she made caused her entire body to flair up in pain.

“ _Glupaya devochka,_ ” Ivan laughed, his voice even. He forced his accent to be a little more obvious, which might have been comical if it wasn’t so terrify for the poor blonde, “Don’t you see… I do not want you at all. In fact, I’d be happiest if you were no more. Now is good time to meet my good friend pipe for last time. _Spokoynoy nochi!_ ”

“No! No, please! You can’t do this!” she begged, desperately, but her words fell on deaf ears. Ivan raised the pipe and brought it down with enough force to cause a definite _crack_. Her head fell forward and blood trickled out of her mouth, hitting the floor with the occasional _plop_. 

“I am glad we have come to agreement!” he cooed, towering over the girl with that sickly sweet smile still on his face, “You will be bothering Alfred no more, _Da_?” 

* * *

Lovino didn’t know how he’d ended up in this low-grade ice cream shop. Here he was, sitting beside the miserable blonde he’d taken notice of, not too long ago. When he’d run into the boy on the street and asked about his girlfriend, he’d expected Alfred to be a little sad, but not to full out break down in the middle of the sidewalk. He’d managed to coax out of the boy what had happened and all but dragged him to the ice cream parlor he could find, not because he remembered that was Alfred’s favorite or anything. That’s jus how you deal with crying people, dammit!

He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at Alfred’s face, trying to clean it up a bit now that the other wasn’t bawling his eyes out. The staff had disappeared ages ago, only staying long enough to give them some ice cream on the house just thanks to Lovino saying who he was. He was thankful that there wasn’t an audience to see him being so weak. It would never do to taint his reputation with kindness.

“Thank you,” Alfred sniffled, casting his baby blue eyes in Lovino’s direction, “You really didn’t have to do all this. It’s not like you really even know me all that well.” Lovino wiped a few last tears off his face and put away his handkerchief before responding.

“Think nothing of it, Alfred,” he insisted, calmly, “You obviously are very upset about this whole thing. You seemed like you could use a pick-me-up. I thought I vaguely remember you mentioning ice cream to be a personal favorite of yours. I just didn’t want to look like a bastard for abandoning you.”

“You’re kind of really sweet, Lovino,” Alfred chuckled, “I know we’ve got this whole costumer-patron relationship going for us, but I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.”

“As in a relationship?” Lovino demanded, skeptical. He wasn’t sure that would be a very good idea in his line of work. Eventually, Alfred would find out and his masterpiece would be ruined. He _definitely_ didn’t want that.

The hesitance must have been evident on Lovino’s face, because Alfred laughed, “No need to stress out. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think I want any more relationships, any time soon. I just mean we could be kinda like friends, but like… With other stuff, if you want.” Lovino could clearly see the reminiscent look he took on.

“You want to be fuck buddies?” Lovino clarified. On one hand, he’d avoid relationship drama while retaining intimate connections with his recent subject of fascination, but on the other hand he was kind of insulted.

“You make it sound awful, Dude,” Alfred noted, scrunching up his nose in distaste, “Do we have to give it a label at all? I want to get to know you, like friendship-wise, but I mean, we don’t have to be _just_ friends…” Lovino scooped up a spoon of slightly melted ice cream and stuck it in Alfred’s mouth to shut him up.

“I’ll think about it, Bastard.”

* * *

Alfred was back at work the next day. Francis had insisted Matthew join him, since him and Arthur wasn’t sure their son was one hundred percent recovered, yet. Matthew had been relatively jobless for the first part of the shift, but the second Alfred’s _regular_ waltzed in, his brother’s attention had been completely focused on the Russian. He watched with interest as Alfred would briefly step away from the customer only to rush right back after dealing with another. After a while, Matthew just handled the other patrons and Alfred was happy not to have to leave the man’s side, again. 

Eventually, their coworker showed up and took over for the boys. While Matthew took his time, Alfred was practically out the door faster than he could change. He couldn’t imagine that he had to hurry that much to get to his next job, granted it was across town, but it their father owned both locations and he would hardly scold Alfred for being late. 

Matthew followed behind his brother, quietly, and spotted him walking up to the Russian he’d been talking to all that time. He just barely silenced a gasp when the tall Russian leaned in and kissed him, Alfred obviously reacting positively to it. They must have known each other, which was impossible, since Alfred had only just stopped dating that other girl who’d been kidnapped and then had reappeared, head smashed in with a blunt object. Surely, he couldn’t have gotten over her already.

“ _Unless_ ,” Matthew realized, horrified as the other man led Alfred to his fancy looking limo, “ _He was dating this guy and Claire at the same time!_ ” He had an urge to tell Arthur and Francis right away - to have them talk some sense into the boy! - but he couldn’t do that. Already, Alfred’s voice was ringing in his head, telling him he was a snitch and a terrible brother. 

No, he’d just have to reprimand Alfred, himself.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the moment you all've been waiting for is finally here. Ya'll can thank Canada for his poorly timed phone call. Speaking of which, I think I promised you guys some PruCan in this story too and have really not been exactly forthcoming with that. I promise it's in the next few chapters.

“ _Lovi~”_ Alfred keened, his fists catching a large handful of the bedsheets. Lovino fondled one of the blonde’s nipples, making him mew in pleasure. He usually couldn’t stand that nickname, but somehow having him saying like this made it okay. He picked up his pace a little, thrusting into Alfred and hitting that spot that made him see stars. Alfred opened his mouth, as if to say something, when they were suddenly interrupted by the _Kim Possible_ theme song blasting at them from the pile of clothes in the corner. Lovino stopped moving and shot Alfred a narrow-eyed look.

“Heh… Sorry?” he apologized, sheepishly, “I guess I forgot to turn off my phone.”

“I have never had the mood killed more tragically than this, just so you’re aware,” Lovino growled, pulling out with a grunt. Alfred awkwardly rolled off the bed, rummaging through the pile until he located his phone. He flipped it open and stopped the offending song in it’s tracks. 

“Yellow?” he asked, facing away. Lovino sat on the bed, watching the blonde’s backside. Even if he happened to be the _stupidest_ lover that he’d ever had, Alfred had to also be the most beautiful. The way his entire body seemed to express everything he felt. It was like making love to the sun. It burned him to touch, but he couldn’t seem to stop, so caught up in the purity and brilliance laid out beneath his fingertips.

“Mattie! Way to have the worst timing in existence!” Alfred continued to talk to whoever was on the other end, “Why do you want to know where I am?” He glanced over his shoulder at Lovino, biting his lip as he thought. The Italian caught the apologetic side to his glance and watched him mouth the _brother._ Lovino climbed out of the bed when Alfred turned back to face away, coming up behind him.

“They seriously told you to do this? Can’t you just tell them to shove it?” Lovino molded himself against Alfred’s back, pressing his lips to the smooth skin there, “Dude, I’m sort of in the middle of something! …What Russian guy? …The big guy from the bar? Jesus christ, Matthew. Are you stalking me or something? …No I wasn’t doing that! I really can’t have this conversation right now! …I’m with a friend okay? …Yes, I’m staying the night! …Just drop it already, Mattie! …Yeah, okay… Yeah, love you, too… ‘Kay, good night.” he hung up his phone, but at this point, Lovino had frozen still, pressed against Alfred’s back.

“Lovino?” Alfred muttered, turning the phone off and tossing it on top of the stack of clothes. 

“Russian guy?” Lovino repeated, the look in his eyes very distant. There was no way someone on his side of town would try and seduce Alfred. It was general knowledge at this point that he had stakes on the blonde and Lovino would be very cross with anyone who came between him and his masterpiece. There was another bar, though, on the other side of town. Lovino had been well aware of it, yet he had been so _stupid_ to not realize that Alfred must have been working there as well. The sinking feeling that someone on the enemies’ side was dirtying Alfred settled over him.

“Yeah… You didn’t think we were exclusive, did you?” Alfred verified, worried that he’d somehow hurt the Italian. 

“No, of course not,” Lovino waved his concern away. He’d seen a few people since establishing… Whatever they had between them. Just because nobody would approach him didn’t mean Alfred couldn’t have his pick of lovers. It was not that, “This man you met at the bar, tell me about him.”

“I don’t see why this is so important,” Alfred stated, confused. Lovino growled, lowly, but refrained from shaking the blonde. 

“ _Please_ ,” he bit through clenched teeth. The word slid off his tongue in a sickly sort of way, but Lovino had to be _gentle_ , dammit! Alfred had slid around to face him and Lovino painted the expanse of his chest with feathery touches. Gentle, calm coaxing would loosen up the boy and get him talking.

“Um… He was this really tall guy, pale blonde hair… purple eyes, I think. His name was Ivan?” Alfred’s voice was breathy and Lovino played with one of his nubs, making Alfred let out a shakey gasp. He was still fully prepared and eager from before their interruption and it wouldn’t be in good taste for Lovino to leave him cold, but suddenly, the Italian could feel his hard on failing him. Not because Alfred wasn’t as beautiful as ever, but because the idea of _Ivan_ touching him and making him dirty was making rage a far more predominant emotion. 

They somehow managed to return to the bed, Alfred falling beneath him with the most willing look on his face, but Lovino’s mind was elsewhere, so he simply took Alfred into his hand, stroking and twisting. Alfred was enjoying it of course - this _was_ Lovino doing the deed, after all - but he looked slightly disappointed, like he’d been expecting them to pick it back up from where they’d left it. The Italian couldn’t do it, though… Not until he settled this. 

Alfred came, Lovino’s name on his breath. He pulled the condom off himself and Alfred, despite not having finished, himself. He tucked the exhausted blonde into the bed, knowing he’d be staying the night for certain this time. Alfred had left room for him, like he always did, but they would not be cuddling tonight. Not when he had things to do. Concern rose up in Alfred’s tired eyes when Lovino pressed a small kiss to his temple and left. His masterpiece would be safe here, tonight, as he met with a very important man on the other side of town.

* * *

“Sir?” Toris interrupted the Russian boss as he sat with his sisters. Katyusha gave the intruder a kind smile and Natalia looked about ready to slit his throat. Ivan remained emotionless.

“I believe I told you not to interrupt me, Toris,” Ivan reminded, his tone promising a punishment for this later.

“I know, Sir,” Toris swallowed, heavily, “But Vargas is on the phone right now… He says he has things to discuss regarding Alfred.”

Suddenly, Ivan was on his feet, his expression turning furious, “What about, Alfred?”

“He wouldn’t say, Sir. Just that it was important.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you guys you're all really fantastic omg. I can't believe this story as gotten as much attention as it has. I really appreciate all of you taking a minute to read and give kutos to this story and I can't thank you enough for helping me actually get through this. If things go the way they are, I might make this my very first completed multi-chapter fic in about four or five years. Wouldn't that be something?

The second he stepped through the door to his house, closing it behind him, someone had him pinned against the walls, purple eyes furious and demanding.

“Matti-?”

“Where were you last night?”

Alfred stared at his brother, shrinking a little bit under the death glare directed his way. He began looking around for their parents, hoping his savior would come in the form of his mother’s nagging.

“They’ve gone out,” Matthew explained, easily catching what Alfred was trying to do, “Tell me where you were last night.”

“Or what?” Alfred demanded. Obviously, his brother wasn’t going to get their parents involved, because he would have done so, already. Matthew’s lip curled up in a way that was very uncharacteristic for him.

“Or I’ll line Pierre’s cage with your comic books,” Matthew threatened. Pierre was one of the various pets in the house and was their father’s pride and joy. Sometimes Alfred and Matthew wondered if he loved the stupid bird more than them. If Francis found out, he’d probably be more angry that they’d used second class paper than the fact Matthew had ruined Alfred’s comic books.

“Okay, okay! I was at this hotel, okay?” Alfred spilled his secrets, “With a guy.”

“I thought Mum told you to stop doing that,” Matthew pointed out, “And Dad got into a fight with you over it.” The two brothers had never quite agreed on which parent fit which role and had always called them different things, but he easily knew which one Matthew was talking about.

“Ma is always getting into fights with someone,” Alfred rolled his eyes, “And Papa said I couldn’t go out with _strangers_ late at night. Lovino isn’t a stranger.”

“What, is he your secret boyfriend?” Matthew demanded, “And what about that Russian guy I saw you with? Are you cheating on _someone else_ with him?”

“For the last time, Mattie, I didn’t see him when Claire and I were together! I didn’t see anyone but her,” Alfred insisted, “It wasn’t like we were together very long. If you’ll remember, _she_ broke up with _me_ to go date some moneybag. I don’t think I should be accused of all these horrible things.”

“Then who are they to you?” Matthew demanded.

“I don’t know, friends?” Alfred supplied.

“Friends that you sleep with?” Matthew verified, skeptically.

“We really don’t like giving our relationship labels,” Alfred said, “It’s not like an ordinary relationship, okay?”

“There are plenty of people who have friends with benefits,” Matthew growled, “And you know how it always ends? Someone gets their hearts broken. What are you going to do when you get romantically attached to one or both of them? Or when you get a real girlfriend and can’t see them like that, anymore?”

“My last girlfriend was just murdered, Matthew,” Alfred ground out, “I’d rather not get involved with anyone else like that, for now. We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. I don’t see what your problem is. You mentioned that I needed more people to look out for me and now there are a total of five. Plus, both Ivan and Lovino are really wealthy.”

“Is _that_ why you sleep with them?” Matthew’s voice rose an octave, “Like some kind of cheap whore?”

“No!” Alfred objected, offended, “I’m just saying they are well off enough to take good care of me, Matthew! Jesus Christ, I’m not a whore.”

“You know what,” Matthew released him, taking a few steps away, “Whatever. If you want to sleep with every person in this goddamn city, I don’t care. Do what you want. I’m going to _iHop_.”

“Mattie…”

“Save it, Alfred.”

* * *

 

 

Lovino stood overlooking the waterfront, a cigarette between his teeth. The sun was just beginning to rise and painted the water with a pink and orange hue. Standing a hundred or so yards away was his little brother and that German bastard. They were watching him, concerned and completely in the dark. Lovino had refused to tell them who they were meeting and for what purpose, but he really didn’t want either of them pestering him about Alfred. That would mean they’d want to meet him, which would only put the blonde boy in danger. Best to just avoid that, entirely.

It wasn’t until the Russian was standing right beside him did he sense the man’s presence. Lovino gently patted his pocket to make sure his gun was still there and kept part of his gaze on Ivan’s pipe, but didn’t move away from him.

“You came.” It was a simple statement, no emotional attachment or resentment. 

“Indeed,” Ivan agreed, equally detached. 

Back near Feliciano and Ludwig, two new people had joined them. Katyusha and Toris faithfully stood by, waiting for their boss. Feliciano was just glad Natalia had been left behind this time.

“Do you wonder what they are talking about?” Feliciano asked Toris, since none of them were close enough to overhear the conversation.

“Don’t you know?” Toris glanced over at him, “They’re talking about Alfred.”

“Who’s Alfred?” Feliciano blinked, confused.

“Why my baby brother’s lover, of course!” Katyusha contributed, happily, “I’ve never seen him so full of life before!”

“Ve! That’s the same with _Fratello_!” Feliciano turned to Ludwig, “You don’t think Alfred is his lover, too?”

“If so, I feel very sorry for the boy,” Ludwig stated, watching the two bosses.

“Why’s that?” Toris questioned, “I would think it’d be good for him, having two major powers to protect him. Nobody with half a brain would touch him.”

“Not necessarily,” Ludwig expanded, “The way I see it, either he’s using them both for that exact reason or he’s too naive to realize what he’s done. Considering Lovino has a keen eye and boundless hatred for fake people, it must be the latter. Naivety is the most detrimental thing to have in this battle. There are plenty of small rival groups that will catch Alfred unaware in an attempt to harm us both. He will have no defense against that.”

“Perhaps we should plant people,” Toris suggested, “To keep an eye on him. Each group should contribute someone, since there are parts which the other technically cannot go to under our border agreement.”

“Oh! You’re brother would love to have an undercover job, Luddy!” Feliciano suggested, “He’s been so bored lately! Maybe you can give it to him!”

“Perhaps,” Ludwig nodded.

“We should bring this up to Ivan and Lovino, _Da_?” Katyusha noted, “They will want to know.”

“I don’t think so,” Ludwig shook his head, “They’ll get possessive. I think it’d be best if we just do our jobs and avoid them. They don’t need to know every single working in the chain.”

“I’m not so sure that is a good idea,” Toris swallowed, “Our group is not like yours. We are very close-knit. There are no secret happenings that the boss does not know about.”

“You may do what you want, of course,” Ludwig offered, “But if Alfred is killed or kidnapped on Russian territory because the plan was turned down, you can assume Lovino will not hesitate to declare war. Civilians and members alike would be hurt in the crossfire. Are you certain you can bear that kind of guilt?”

Toris fell silent, unsure how to respond. Lovino returned then, leaving Ivan to stare out over the water like he’d been.

“Hurry up, Bastards!” Lovino snapped, walking away. Ludwig and Feliciano followed him, the latter waving his goodbyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some extended family in this fic, so lemme explain this thing a bit. 
> 
> On Arthur's side, he had a ton of siblings: Oliver and Alice (2p and Nyo), Scotland are the only ones that actually are mentioned. Alice has a bagillion children and is a single mother. Oliver has two adopted boy - 2p!America and 2p!Canada - and is dating 2p!France. Their mother is Britannia, obviously. Alice and Arthur are the only ones who stayed in the area.
> 
> On France's side, he only had one sister - Nyo!France. His mother is Gaul. His mother and sister both passed away.

“Gimme something strong, Jett,” Matthew said, sitting at the bar and putting his face in his hands.

“Are you even legal?” the man running the counter questioned, setting a glass on the table and filling it.

“Mum doesn’t pay you to question your customers,” Matthew grumbled.

“Uncle Francis barely pays me at all,” Jett returned, sliding the drink over to him.

“Hmm…” Matthew swirled around the beverage. He was more of a wine person, really, and the clear liquid did not seem entirely appealing all of a sudden, “How is Aunt Alice doing these days?”

“As good as she can be,” Jett shrugged, “Mum’s up to her neck in bills these days, but that’s hardly new. It’s really to be expected when you’ve got as many kids as she does. Sis and her decided they need a girl’s day, soon. I think they want to ask Uncle Allistor to babysit, ‘cuz they was talking about flying him into town. You know I’m gonna be out of the house, that day. How about you? How is living with my favorite little cousin?”

“Pretty horrible, actually,” Matthew sighed, taking a small sip of the liquid in his glass and then setting it aside in distaste, “Alfred’s getting himself involved in all this romantic hullabaloo. He’s gonna get hurt and he doesn’t even realize it.”

“Ya know, Matthew. One of these days you’re gonna learn there’s a lot more to this little town than you know,” Jett took his mostly untouched glass, knowingly, “I think it’d be better for you two to just up and get out of here. Go find a cute girl in a little country town.”

“I would, but I can’t leave Alfred here and he’d never agree to it,” Matthew sighed, “We’ve never been apart, Jett. You know that.”

“Do I ever,” Jett laughed, “But maybe if you can’t go out, you aught to find someone who can protect you, here… What about that guy over there? The one with the white hair.”

Matthew’s eyes landed on the figure sitting tucked away in the corner, a beer in his glass and a wicked smile on his face. His eyes were lit up in mischief, “I don’t know, Jett… I don’t really think so…”

“Oh, come on, ‘Cuz. Live a little. You gotta just get over there and wrestle that crocodile into submission. It’d be a blast!” Jett prompted, “Or at least go talk to him.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to talk,” Matthew allowed, getting off the stool, “Thanks, Jett.”

“No problem!”

Matthew crossed the room and took the empty seat across from the albino man drinking his beer, “Do you like pancakes?”

The other stared at him, smirk falling slightly in confusion, “What’s that?”

“You… Don’t know what pancakes are?” Matthew demanded, disbelieving him.

“Um… No?” the other admitted, hesitantly. Matthew looked about ready to have a fit. Who _didn’t_ know about pancakes? What kind of uncultured idiot had he decided to talk to. Whether it was Jett’s pep talk or his absolute horror at this guy’s lack of knowledge that made him suddenly act, Matthew wasn’t sure.

“Alright, get up,” Matthew directed, using enough force with his quiet voice to somehow get the other to listen. He lightly took the man by the wrist, forcing him to leave behind his beer.

“Um… Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to be enlightened.”

“Oh, uh… Alright, then.” 

* * *

“Here, you want some help?” Alfred offered, seeing the man at the self-checkout struggling to get his things scanned.

“Oh, uh…” the other, a brunette with a lean figure and a hesitant smile, said, “Um… Thank you.”

“No problem,” Alfred replied, taking his things and scanning them for him with much more ease. He seemed oblivious to the fact the man was having a mini heart attack, “My name’s Alfred, by the way.”

“Uh… T-toris,” he replied and then mentally slapped himself. Now he’d gotten himself involved when he’d _sworn_ he wouldn’t. He’d been fully prepared to just never bring the whole plan up to Ivan in the first place and here he was, talking with Alfred. 

“Nice to meet you, pal,” Alfred offered him a bright smile and a wink. The brunette could easily tell why Ivan liked him so much. This boy was definitely something to behold. Alfred scanned the last of the items and put them in the plastic bags, stepping away from the machine, “Welp, that’s all. I figure you can manage paying for all this, yourself?”

“Oh, um… Yes. Thank you, again,” Toris nodded.

Alfred patted him on the back in a friendly manner, “Happy to help! See ya around, Toris!” The blonde walked away with a wave, leaving him standing there a little confused and incredibly terrified.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an ending in mind I think you all are going to hate me for. I can just see it already.

“ _Fratello_!” Feliciano whined, practically draped over his big brother, “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?”

“Because I’m not!” Lovino hissed, not even doing anything to shove the other off because he’d be far too persistent.

“You are so! Toris told me!”

“You trust the fucking _Russians_?"

“ _Fratello_ hates me!”

“Stop being an idiot, _idiota_!”

“Do you love him?”

“Of course not!”

“ _Ve_? You shouldn’t lead him on like that!”

“I’m not leading him on because we’re not fucking together!”

“On the contrary, fucking together may be the only thing you are,” Ludwig piped up and Lovino spun around to glare daggers at him.

“Shut the hell up, Potato Bastard! It’s not like that!”

“Really?” Ludwig glanced up, “So you’re seeing him for more than that?”

“No! It’s...! It’s complicated!” Lovino defended, his face turning red when he realized he’d been backed into a corner, “I command you to stop opening your stupid potato-eating trap!”

“Aw, it’s so cute that you’re embarrassed!” Feliciano cooed. Lovino simply stormed off, his middle finger waving them farewell.

* * *

 

Ivan watched the golden haired boy across from him as he shoveled food into his mouth. He had his own plate, but it went mostly untouched. Dinner had been Toris’ idea and it seemed his faithful subordinate was as well researched as ever. He’d managed to somehow find bits of personal information on Alfred. The fact that the blonde was avoiding an active relationship at the moment due to his recent issue with his deceased girlfriend. Ivan gloated, internally. That job had gone so well, it was almost ridiculous to think of how easy he’d gotten away with it. Usually, there was at least chatter and whispered accusations after a dealing like that, but Claire’s mysterious case had barely even found its way to the evening news. It was almost as if someone in the police force had purposefully hushed it up for a reason.

Though, the likelihood of that seemed to be more accurate than he realized. As it turned out, Alfred had family in high places. Both of his parents were notable figures in the community - One being the chief of police and the other owning at least a fair share of every other business in town. Young and attractive and charismatic Alfred was easily as powerful as him, and yet he was still no naive.

“This is really good,” Alfred paused a moment to breath, smiling at Ivan, “I honesty didn’t even know this place was here! Not that I would have come if you hadn’t brought me, ‘cuz none of the waiting staff speak English, but still! Really good!” Ivan chuckled, assuring him it was no big deal. He was just thrilled to have Alfred’s company. If it made him happy, Ivan would certainly comply. Though, it wasn’t about winning the boy over simply with charm, any longer. Alfred wouldn’t have been a hard target to acquire, before. He was easily impressed and eternally optimistic. It had been simple before.

Now… Now things were different.

That accursed Italian had to ruin everything, it seems. Just as always, Vargas was sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Poisoning his precious lover who’s beauty was comparable to the most perfect sunflowers. The idea of Lovino touching him, the idea of Alfred calling his name infuriated the Russian man. And if that wasn’t enough, he’d asked to talk - Had tempted Ivan to try something by inviting him to conference, knowing full well one wrong move would mean war. Ivan was furious, but he wasn’t stupid. They would loose too many in a war, now. The time for that would come.

_“He is an idiot,” the Italian leader had a dark look on his face when Ivan approached, flicking his cigarette into the water they overlooked as the sky turned shades of orange and pink. Somehow, Ivan couldn’t disagree._

_“It is in our best interest to keep him in the dark,” Lovino continued, “Our appeal, though he is certainly blessed with other traits, is primarily his lack of fear of us. The first rule is neither of us can tell him.”_

_Rule?” Ivan repeated._

_“We are both playing a very dangerous game, Ivan,” Lovino elaborated, “It would do us little good to pretend otherwise. If you wish to shoot yourself in the foot, be my guest, but I am going to win.”_

_“Hmm,” Ivan replied. As much as he hated to admit it, Vargas had a point. They would not get over this like civilized gentlemen. It was not really the way things worked in their circles. Both sides wanted few casualties and a game would be more profitable than a war, “Da. Alright. What is objective of game?”_

_“Winner takes all,” Lovino said, “Whoever Alfred chooses as his official boyfriend or lover or whatever fucking phrase he decides to use, they get him **alone**. The other backs off.”_

_"Sounds fair,” Ivan smirked, liking very much the idea of showing up the Italian and getting Alfred to himself, “And loser will make himself disappear from Sunflower’s life for good - Even as **friend**.” Lovino ground his teeth, not exactly thrilled with the prospect of loosing Alfred completely, but he planned to win, anyways._

_“Fine.”_

_"I have rule, also.”_

_“Great. Let’s hear it.”_

_Ivan ran his tongue across his lower lip, thinking, “Fredka bedroom life is open, to us but other lovers or… **girlfriends** are free game.” They both cringed at the memory of Claire. They couldn’t bring themselves to disagree with her finale, even if they could rarely agree on much._

_“He’s gonna find out if you kill off all your competition, you psycho,” Lovino growled._

_“Nyet. He will not. I am very careful.”_

_“Tch. Whatever. Kill them for all I care. Just try to have a **little** sophistication, will you?”_

_“Da. You also,” Ivan forced on of his childish smiles onto his face, “Good luck.” Lovino just scoffed._

Ivan was pulled out of his little flashback by Alfred’s voice in his ear.

“Hey, you in there, buddy? Aren’t you hungry?”

The Russian looked to see Alfred had slid his chair over to sit beside him, their knees briefly brushing against each other. His look was full of concern and all the sudden, Ivan wanted to leave, “ _Da_. I am fine, _Fredka_. I think we should leave, however.”

“What? Why?” Alfred questioned, confused.

“We have… other plans for this evening as well.”

“Oh,” Alfred smirked a little, setting his fork down on his plate, “We wouldn’t want to forget about those.”

“ _Nyet_. That’d be… _most unfortunate_.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over one thousand hits! That's really awesome, guys! I really appreciate that! I've been gone for a while, but hopefully a little PruCan and some screen time for the minor characters in this little fic will make up for that.

“Shit! Waldo! Keep your head down!” Magnus screeched in a hushed tone, suddenly placing a hand on the other’s head to keep him facing the ground.

“’Tis it?” Berwald muttered, trying to peer around his eccentric boss’ fingers.

“It’s Santa Claus,” Magnus grumbled, keeping his own face trained downward, “Who the fuck do you think it is? I knew we shouldn’t have come to this area for Lukas’ stupid gift…”

“‘Ctully.. Y’ were the one ‘sisted we come…”

“Hush up, Big guy. There’s no reason to worry. As long as you have the King with you, there’s no way that anythin- Wait a minute, is that someone with him holding hands?”

“Looks like it.”

“Aw. Never woulda guessed the Ruski was such a sof- Ah! Ew! Cover your eyes!”

Berwald did not appreciate having a hand in his face a second time, pushing the other away from him to continue walking down the street. Magnus rushed to catch up to him, glancing back to see the couple exchanging words too quiet to hear from where he was. His expression turned sour, now that Berwald was too far ahead to see it. 

“Ya com in’?” Berwald called back over his shoulder, drawing Magnus out of his trance.

“Haha! Wait up, will ya!”

* * *

“Yo! Mattie!” Alfred called into his house, pushing open the door and dropping his jacket off on the hook. 

“In here, Al,” came the soft reply. 

“Hey, Dude!” he followed the voice to the kitchen, “You will not _believe_ the thing that just ha… Oh. I didn’t realize you had company.” There, sitting at his table and eating his brother’s pancakes, was a complete _stranger_. Red eyes flashed up to greet him, followed by a shit-eating grin.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the stranger mentioned, “You the brother he’s always talkin’ about?”

“Oh. My bad. I should have introduced you,” Matthew interrupted before Alfred could say anything, “Alfred, this is Gilbert. He’s a friend of mine. Gil, this is my brother, Alfred.”

“Nice to meet’cha,” Alfred eyed the other, suspiciously, for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat at the table as well, “You got any more pancakes, Mattie?”

Matthew nodded and rose from his chair to retrieve his brother a plate, setting it in front of the other, who instantly began to tear into them. With Alfred throughly distracted, Matthew returned his attention to Gilbert.

“And, so, you could imagine my surprise when this lady so rudely smashes the glass,” he continued some story he’d been telling before, Gilbert seeming to hang on his every word, “And I was terrified, to be honest. Eventually, another patron stepped in and got her to leave, but it was quite an experience, none the less.”

“If I’d been there,” Gil swallowed his mouthful of pancake and pointed his fork at the other, “I would have taken care of her for you. No drunk old hag would hurt’cha on my watch!”

Alfred watched with mixed feelings as Matthew blushed, looked away and informed the other he was being ridiculous, only to have Gilbert give his elaborate plan on how he’d go about taking care of her.

“Mmm… These pancakes are delicious, Birdie,” Gilbert praised, sticking another forkful in his mouth.

“Thank you, Gil,” Matthew murmured, embarrassed.

“I’m gonna have to marry you so that these wonderful things don’t go to someone else,” he joked, winking at Matthew. The flustered response Matthew gave was suddenly reminding Alfred that he was not being paid attention to.

“Hey, Mattie-“ Alfred spoke up.

“Hold on a second, Alfred. Gil and I are talking,” Matthew stated, holding up a finger in his direction. A sudden stroke of jealousy took over the blonde and he scowled. 

Alfred most certainly did _not_ like Gilbert.

* * *

“Dude, check it!” Alfred pressed various buttons on his game controller, making his character perform some kind of ridiculous trick and racking up points like crazy, “Pretty awesome, huh?”

“I feel we are a bit unfairly matched,” Toris grumbled, still trying to figure out which buttons did what. 

“Nah, you’ll get the hang of it. Here, lemme help,” Alfred leaned over to point out the function of all the buttons, suddenly very close to Toris who panicked and scooted away. The boss _definitely_ wouldn’t like it if he was getting intimate with the man he was supposed to be watching. 

“I’ve got this, thank you,” Toris assured him, trying to keep from looking terrified with varying results.Alfred shrugged.

“M’kay. Suit yourself. I was just trying to help.”

Toris glanced over as Alfred returned to his own character, continuing to wipe the floor with him. The concentration and complete confidence painted across the other’s expression wasn’t _unattractive_ , per say, but he was her on a job, not to get romantically involved - Especially with his boss’ lover. _Stay focused, Toris._

“Woah! Nice move there, Dude!” Alfred flashed a huge grin in his direction, making Toris look away as his face began to heat up. This was gonna be harder than he initially thought.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this story has gotten so much attention! Thank you all so much! I'm gonna work on wrapping this up, soon, so there will be a lot more plot in the next few updates, as they come.

“I can’t stand him, Ivan,” Alfred hissed, curled up while the man in question mapped out swirls on his back. It was a soothing gesture and the blonde really appreciated it, but that didn’t make him any less angry about this situation, “He’s always spending time with Mattie, which I don’t mind, but they always end up making out on the couch or something equally gross and whenever Gil’s around, Mattie always is telling me to wait my turn and I hate it so much.”

“It is a shame,” Ivan agreed without much thought. If it made Alfred unhappy, it must have been bad, “Would you prefer he just disappeared from your lives? If that was possible?”

“Tch,” Alfred made a noncommittal noise, “I dunno. On one hand, he’s super obnoxious, but on the other he does make Mattie pretty happy. I would hate to see that taken from him. I guess I’ll just have to put up with him, for now.”

“I see,” the Russian slid a hand down Alfred’s side to rest at the other’s waist, pulling him a little closer in the process, “I will simply have to distract you until then.”

Alfred bit back a moan when Ivan began attaching himself to his neck, “Y-yeah, I guess that’s one option…”

* * *

“Tch… Useless piece of shit,” Lovino peeled the gloves from his fingers with a delicacy. Blood dripped to sit beside his feet, clearly contrasting the ashy grey of the floor. A cigarette was held out to him and he took it into his mouth, allowing it to be lit. 

“Fratello,” Feliciano muttered, staring at the body with an impassive expression, “I do not think he meant to get it on your suit.” 

“Well, if he hadn’t been a weasel in the first place, then we wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place,” Lovino replied, simply, “I knew there was something suspicious about the assholes appearing at just that moment.” He stepped towards the body, taking the cigarette in one hand and pressing the orange tip to the victim’s skin, blackening the area just beneath his Adam’s apple. No one else bothered to pretend to look away. There was no reason to.

“Potato bastard,” Lovino hissed, flicking the last of his cigarette ashes and crushing the remains beneath his foot.

“Yes, Sir,” the blonde returned, flicking a lighter closed and sticking it in his pocket after lighting Feliciano’s.

“I want everyone to know what happens if they double cross me,” Lovino stated, grinding his teeth together, “Get pictures and be sure to show them to everyone and clarify just how serious I am.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ludwig said. The two other occupants of the room remained completely still as Lovino made his leave.

* * *

“Don’t interrupt us while we’re down here.” Raivis could hear voices from where he was, coming from somewhere above him. A pull at his wrists showed that he was trapped and the cloth across his eyes kept him blind. Even the hopeless efforts to cry for help were muffled by a gag biting into his mouth. 

As far as most of the Russian Mafia, Raivis was by far the most sensitive. He had always been more of an errand boy than an actual participant in the activities. While he was no longer squeamish around bodies and blood, he was far more of a crybaby when his own self was in danger. He sniffled as silently as he could manage, shaking and unable to stop tears flowing from his eyes. 

“Now, now. All those tears hardly look attractive, young man,” the first voice chuckled, a finger placed under his chin to tip his head upwards, “Such a young thing you are, too. I would hate to have to hurt you, so if you cooperate with me, I shouldn’t have to.” A knife came down and buried itself in the wood of the chair directly beside his arm. Raivis could feel himself brush against the cold metal and whimpered. 

“Let him talk, Waldo.” A dark presence settled behind Raivis, untying his gag and letting the fabric fall to rest on his shoulders.

“Now be a good boy and don’t scream,” the first person suggested and the young boy could practically hear how giddy he was, “No one will come to rescue you, but you might just interrupt Waldo’s beloved during his nap and I assure you that he is even less pleasant to deal with.”

A grunt of confirmation behind him sent shivers through Raivis. If the brooding, hulking figure behind him was only just the beginning, then there was no saying what this mysterious third person was like. 

“Such a good boy. The Ruski taught you well,” his captor chirped, “Now… Raivis, was it? Well, Raivis, we’ve been noticing your boss getting awfully close to that one blonde whore and wanted a little more insight to him.”

“Alfred’s not a whore,” Raivis hissed, offended for the blonde’s sake. His contact with the blonde was limited, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d been more than kind in those encounters. Like an angel, almost.

“Ah, so you do know who we mean, then.” The knife previously embedded into his chair was pried away and used to brush some of Raivis’ hair out of his face, “Now, then… It would be wise to tell us the full story here. What is that blonde to him? A mobster? Just a bitch?”

“No, he’s not… He’s just…” Raivis trembled, biting his lip. On one hand, the situation he found himself in was terrifying, but on the other hand, Ivan was sure to do far worse if he spilled the beans.

“You aren’t going to talk? Are you quite certain?” Raivis tearfully shook his head, holding his breath. For a second, nothing happened and Raivis was beginning to think maybe the other reconsidered interrogating him, but then a sharp pain shot through his arm and he let out a bloodcurdling scream, eyes widening behind the blindfold.

“Hush now, Raivis. We already told you screaming would only make things worse. Now, I suggest you start talking or there will be many more like that.”

Fifteen years old, facing a nearly certain death either way and nothing short of a crybaby, Raivis Galante did just that.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The PruCan in this chapter is dedicated to my trash, ex-Cinnabunn wife, however I cannot share it with her on accounts of the rest of this story being the way it is. ;;n;;

“Shame,” Magnus huffed, kicking an idle knife across the room, hitting the opposite wall, “We weren’t exactly done with him. I’m a little impressed, though. You don’t think our little _Alfred_ will be this clever, do you? It would certainly take away from our end goal.”

A bruised and beaten teenager remained tied to his chair, a pool of blood laying at his feet. Most of it came from the slits in his wrist, likely caused by the piece of wood scratched away from the chair, itself. The kid’s fingernails were worn away until they were basically nonexistent. In another situation, he might have felt bad for the brat; Especially considering if this was the option he choose, the alternative must have been far worse.

“H’s not a’part ‘f the f’mily,” Berwald muttered, arms cross. While he remained impassive on the outside, he was somewhat sad about this outcome. Raivis had reminded him a bit about his own late son, but the damage was done. 

“Clean him up and send him home,” Magnus ordered, waving a dismissive hand, “Let the Commies pay their respects… If they’re even capable of that much compassion.” Berwald grunted an affirmative, pulling a pair of gloves over his hands and rolling his sleeves up.

* * *

“Mmm, Birdie, that was fantastic!” Gilbert grinned, flopping back on the bed in post-bliss.

“Yeah,” Matthew agreed, distractedly. Gilbert glanced over at his from the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you so blue all of a sudden, Babe? Sad that my awesome lay is over?” Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows at the other, hoping to reestablish the mood.

“I… I’ve just been worrying about Alfred an-“ Matthew admitted, settling more deeply into the bed with a sigh.

“Were you thinking about your brother the whole time we were having sex!?” Gilbert screeched, shooting up and giving the other the most offended look he could manage, “At least include me in on your twin fantasies, Birdie! Geez!”

“Oh, shut up, Gil,” Matthew dragged him back down and cuddled up beside him, “You know I have more than enough reason to worry about him 24/7. And don’t talk about twin fantasies like you’d be able to handle two of me at once. You barely manage one.”

“Hey…” Gilbert pouted. He brushed a hand through Matthew’s hair, resting the other on his lover’s hip, “If I’m being honest, though, your brother does associate himself with dangerous people. Nobody can blame you for caring. My own baby bro got dragged into a lot of stuff because of me, so at least you’re not doing that.”

“I didn’t know you had a younger brother,” Matthew yawned against Gilbert’s exposed chest.

“Yeah. He’s a rascal, that one,” Gilbert said, fondly, “They all seem to be like that, though. Little brothers live to give us hell, you know?”

“He sounds charming when you describe him like that,” Matthew giggled, amused. Gilbert ran a thumb over Matthew’s cheek, watching the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he laughed, “I’d very much like to meet him.”

“How’s about we make a deal, Birdie?”

“What do you propose?”

Gil lowered his nose to brush against Matthew’s their lips inches apart, “We could both use a little help with our baby brothers, so after you meet him, I’ll offer to help protect yours if you’ll watch out for mine.”

Matthew closed the small distance, connecting their lips in a heated kiss; The blonde’s eyes fluttering closed. When they finally pulled away, he buried his face in Gil’s shoulder, smiling sweetly.

“I would like that very much.”

* * *

“Poor kid,” one of the officers muttered, kneeling down to get a good look. Arthur crossed his arms, watching as his associate searched the body of clues, “Way it looks, he bled out from the wrists. Probably a suicide.”

“There’s not really enough blood here for it to be a suicide,” Arthur pointed out. In fact, for a kid that had bled out, the scene was relatively clean. 

“That is true. Reports so far say that the bruises and gashes across the rest of him were preexisting, too,” the associate pointed out, “If you ask me, us even being out here doing this is stupid. Everyone knows this case’ll be swept under the rug in the next day or two and the gang he belongs to will come dispose of the evidence.”

“You’re quick to assume it’s a mob incident. It could be an independent murderer,” Arthur pointed out, though he wasn’t too sure of that possibility, himself.

“Don’t joke yourself. The mob might be a bunch of fuckers, but at least they keep the vermin out. Don’t want any freelancers messing with their plans, you know?” the associate stood, brushing off his pants and removing the gloves, “If it makes you feel better, though, you might as well tell your kids to walk the other way around to school. I haven’t seen any activity over on North side for a while. They’re pretty clean, for once.”

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, looking off to the side with no real direction in mind, “I think I will do that, actually.”


End file.
